CSI Fly

Did you ever see a fly die a natural death?

I saw a fly once that was death, presumably of natural causes and not of ‘primary cause of death’ getting smashed by an annoyed human. This dead fly I saw must have been the most sophisticated fly on the face of the earth, simply judging by its choice of final resting place.

It was a really hot day in the usually not-so-hot Irish summer and I spent my time at the beach, swimming in the still really-rather-cold Atlantic Ocean.
As was making my way home, climbing up some cliffs – the normal way of reaching that beach – I spotted a fly sitting on a small plateau of rocks, just ahead of me, facing the ocean. Intrigued I inched closer. Even as I had my hand right beside it, the fly would not move, it would not even react as I gently poked it. I came to the conclusion that this fly was either a very good actor – or dead.

I stopped climbing for a minute and turned around to gaze across the ocean when I realised that this must be the ideal place to die. The afternoon sun glowing across the sparkling blue water, a light breeze soothing the skin, the view unobstructed by cars or buildings or other remains of civilisation.

And imagine the life a fly, dead by natural causes must’ve had: Being born, flying around for a while: “Wheee, there’s some meat someone left outside, yum. Oh, what’s that, the brown stuff, that’s nice too… ooh that’s fun, annoying people and all, great. Whew, now I’m tired, I’ll sit down for a moment, hey this place seems really nice…”